


Kiss Me

by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Life is nothing like a movie, M/M, or is it? ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 23:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/peanutbutterjelly-pie
Summary: -Dean’s spur-of-the-moment ideas aren’t always the best, as lots of people are able to attest. And his last one really took the cake.Because now he’s unable to forget the taste of Castiel’s lips and he’s got no freaking clue how to deal with this.-





	Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the _weekly-words challenge _in my Discord group!
> 
> This came to life more or less in one single go and I hope you're gonna enjoy it :D
> 
> -

Dean never wanted to be a cliche.

And yet here he is, in a dark alley, a dead end, just him and Cas and a bunch of cops close to their heels. There’s no way to go, no corner to hide, and soon enough the officers will show up and ask very uncomfortable questions as soon as they’ll spot two guys in the most suspicious part of town.

Dean grinds his teeth. This hunt had been a fucking nightmare right from the start, with dismembered victims and some cops who looked way too closely at their fake FBI badges for a change, exposing their illegitime status and forcing the hunters to retreat and take cover like a group of mere criminals.

Granted, they mostly walk on the edge of the law and cross it more often than not, but it’s all for the greater good and everything, so  _ fuck it. _

“I could knock them out,” Cas proposes as the voices of the cops are coming nearer and nearer. “Send them to sleep for a few minutes.”

The suggestion is tempting, Dean has to admit, however, Cas’ mojo is running rather low these days and he seriously doesn’t want him to waste it like that. Not if it’s not a dire emergency with no other options.

“Cas, man …”

The voices are close now. Dean almost feels their breaths in his neck.

“Maybe there is a place we can hide,” Cas mumbles, looking around in the narrow alley. A futile endeavor, unless he wants to squeeze himself into a trash can barely big enough to fit one of his legs.

No, there has to be another way.

They need a distraction. An excuse.

So far the cops hadn’t seen anything, are just following a hunch, and if Dean and Cas play it right, pretend they’re exactly where they wanted to be in the first place, perhaps they’ll think them normal natives and leave them alone.

Hence the cliche.

Because in the 0.004 seconds Dean has to make a decision he can only think about the countless of movies he’s seen over the years with the exact same scenario. And the protagonists always got themselves out of these situations, by playing their cards right. And probably due to dumb luck and bad writing.

Dean growls and curses because he can’t for the hell of it come up with anything better that quickly and before he even really realizes what he’s doing he grabs a fairly surprised Cas at the collar, pushes him against the wall behind him and presses their lips together.

_ Kisses  _ him.

Dammit.

Cas produces a muffled sound deep inside his throat and puts his hands against Dean’s chest out of pure instinct, but astonishingly enough he doesn’t shove the hunter away from him. Maybe he’s too shocked, too uncertain what to even make of this situation, but he remains still. Frozen in place.

Probably believing that Dean has a plan and knows what he’s doing.

Right.

Dean feels weird and awkward and yet hot all over, and he  _ honestly  _ has no idea what he should do next. He’s just way over his head.

He tries to focus on the cops, their voices, their footsteps, but his stupid brain can’t help registering how astoundingly soft Cas’ lips are. Not that he thought much about it before, but he always imagined them to be dry and chapped. Because the dude looks like in a serious need of a chapstick 24/7.

But now Dean realizes that’s not the case and he has not a single clue what to do with this information. Should he attempt to delete it as soon as this is over? Or keep it in mind?

Why the hell is he even thinking about it in the first place?

“Dean,” Cas mumbles against Dean’s lips. A question, an accusation, a statement -- the hunter doesn’t know. It could be all or nothing.

“Just … just go with it, Cas,” Dean whispers. “We need … distraction … the cops …”

He’s not even certain what he’s saying anymore. Cas having so close, his warmth radiating, his breath skidding over Dean’s skin and making him shiver all over -- it’s doing some weird shit to Dean’s brain.

Cas stays still for a second, absolutely unmoving like before, and Dean already begins to consider that this was a colossally stupid idea and he should rather have Cas mojo those officers into sleep than goddamned  _ kiss  _ him of all things, but then suddenly he feels Cas coming to a decision and spurring into action.

Nimble fingers find themselves at the back of Dean’s neck, scraping the nape in a truly sinful manner, and Dean just has a millisecond to whimper pathetically and notice his knees going weak before Cas dives in again, this time apparently more than ready to put on a good show for the cops.

And  _ fuck, _ does the guy know how to pull out for the audience!

An arm wraps around Dean’s hip and yanks them closer together, their bodies aligning in a way that makes the hunter sweat instantly. He doesn’t have a chance to dwell on it too much, though, because Cas seems pretty determined to give it its best performance and go way beyond the pressing two closed mouths together.

Before Dean even realizes what is happening Cas is coaxing his lips open. Dean just goes with it, too stunned and overwhelmed to consider anything else, and just a moment later a hot tongue joins the show, right next to a very obscene groan coming from the angel.

Dean feels way over his head and at the first moment he’s about to push the angel away and scold him for taking things too far. After all, this is just a show, not a freaking soft porno. But then he hears the footsteps coming nearer and voices mumbling and Dean decides to screw it and follow Cas’ lead instead.

He shuts off his logical brain and lets his body take over. In no time at all they lose themselves in fevered kisses, hotter and more sensual than anything Dean has experienced for a long while, and instead of freaking out about that fact he resolves to enjoy it.

It’s lips and tongues and teeth and hands running over body parts Dean doesn’t think about too hard and, on one occasion, hips rolling to search for some friction, and it’s awesome and absolutely terrifying and Dean’s so turned on his brain stops working completely.

But just when he’s about to press them closer and turn the whole thing into a R-rated humping session (which would’ve totally ended up in them being arrested as well - a fact Dean would’ve realized if he could still think straight), Cas slows down.

His kisses turn deep and intimate and unhasty and it’s just as amazing. Maybe even more so.

Dean can’t help a moan or two as he tilts his head for better access and revels in the sensation of having Cas in such a way. Their tongues touch each other lazily, Dean nibbles at Cas’ bottom lip and earns a wonderful groan in response, their bodies actually melt against each other, taking the whole experience to a whole new level.

He certainly can’t remember the last time he’s been kissed like this.

It’s been a  _ really  _ long time.

A part of Dean wishes it would never stop.

And then, of course, it does.

Suddenly Cas pauses mid-kiss and steps backwards, out of Dean’s tight grasp. The hunter blinks rapidly, feeling like a splash of cold water hit him right in the face, while the angel appears thoroughly unaffected. If it weren’t for his flushed cheeks and spit-shiny lips, Dean could surely think this never happened.

At all.

“The policemen are gone,” Cas informs him, his voice a bit deeper than usually, almost croaky, but nonetheless steady and unwavering. Certainly not the voice of someone who just had the make-out session of his life. “We should get back to the motel.”

Without waiting for a reply he turns on his heels and walks away.

Like nothing of importance happened.

Like it just was a job. Something that had to be done.

And well, to a certain degree that’s very well true, but Dean still stares after him with his mouth hanging open, his body craving for the angel’s touch, his heart aching and his libido crying.

FUCK.

\-----

They find Sam back at the motel, right where they left him.

“You alright?” he asks immediately as he glances at his brother and the angel. Dean has no idea what he’s seeing or believes to see (Dean made extra sure he’d be presentable) and he can’t help squirming awkwardly and shooting a glance at Cas.

Cas, meanwhile, doesn’t lose his cool for even a split second. “We ran into a few police officers,” he tells the young Winchester. “But we were able to blend in and avoid a confrontation.”

That’s surely a nicer way to phrase this than _ “I kissed Dean senseless, fried his brain and almost got in his pants” _ . At least it spares Dean all the brotherly teasing.

And still, it bothers him how Cas can go back like that. Like it meant nothing.

Okay, granted, Dean actually told him it’s just a distraction, but he must have felt that it all wasn’t a show, right?

Right?

But just when he starts to consider whether he should pull Cas aside and have an honest-to-God talk about his emotions, Sam announces, “So I’ve found us a new lead, check this out …” and the moment is gone.

\-----

The rest of the hunt goes down without a hitch and Cas says his quick goodbyes without even looking into Dean’s eyes.

Dean tries not to take it personal and fails miserably.

\-----

Dean can’t get over it.

He thinks about the taste of Cas’ lips while he drinks his coffee in the morning. He imagines Cas’ hot breath brushing his skin as he cleans the Impala. He fantasizes about Cas’ moans while he prepares dinner.

And he starts to dream things that are certainly not PG-rated.

Not even by a longshot.

_ God, _ he’s so damned screwed.

\-----

It gets even worse.

Just about a week later, after a hunt successfully finished, Dean and Sam see themselves in a bar to unwind some of their stress. Sam seems actually to get lucky with a cute woman at the counter almost immediately, grinning and talking with her animatedly about a book she’s been carrying with her. If he’s playing his cards right he won’t be lonely tonight.

And Dean craves that too. A warm body next to his. A nice and pretty distraction to get the image of a certain blue-eyed angel out of his head.

But nobody in the room piques his interest. There are many beautiful ladies in the bar and some of them actually eye him curiously, however, Dean can only think that their lips are too small and too sticky with lipgloss. Even as one of the most gorgeous women on earth shoots him a lecherous smile Dean’s only able to sigh and begins to contemplate whether he should send Cas a quick text or not.

Yeah, he’s  _ so _ fucked.

\-----

It happens again a couple of times after that.

Stunning women showing interest in him and Dean outright ignoring them. He feels bad for it and he’s pretty sure his past self would slap him over the head  _ so hard, _ but as soon as he tries to convince himself to give it at least a try he ends up with Cas’ stupid face in front of his inner eye and everything is lost.

Of course it doesn’t take long for Sam to catch up on the change. At first he only throws hesitant glances in Dean’s direction. It’s obvious he wants to say something, comment on this odd behavior, but for a couple of instances he keeps his mouth shut.

This changes, however, one night when they’re out in a pub again.

Next to some tasty beer Dean ordered himself a few shots. Nothing too strong, but he feels pleasantly buzzed soon enough anyway.

This is the time Sam decides to attack. “So, what’s up with you lately?” he wonders, downing his own shot in one go. His cheeks are turning red, a clear indication that the alcohol is getting to him, but his gaze is so far clear enough. “You got a secret girlfriend you didn’t tell me about?”

He’s obviously joking, but Dean feels uncomfortable anyway.

“It’s nothing …” he mumbles.

“Oh, c’mon, there  _ something  _ going on with you.”

Sam continues to nag and bug him, even more so than usual (probably due to the booze running through his veins), and Dean tries to deflect every single time, he  _ really  _ does, but after a while he gets tired and his vision starts to become a bit blurry and before he can do anything to stop it he hears himself saying, “I kissed Cas!”

Sam is stunned into silence for a few minutes after that, simply staring at his brother through narrowed eyes and most likely wondering whether he’s not dreaming right now.

“You …  _ kissed  _ Cas?”

Dean groans and buries his face in his palms. “You remember that hunt, a few weeks back?” he asks, not bothering to search for some kind of made-up explanation in his compromised brain. The cat is out of the bag now, he sure as hell can be honest with his frigging emotions for a change.

And it actually feels sorta nice to say it out loud finally.

Nice and absolutely scary.

“When we ran into the cops,” Dean continues, “we kinda, uh, kissed to get rid of them.”

Sam frowns. “Like in the movies?”

Dean nods enthusiastically. “ _ Exactly _ like in the movies.”

Sam studies him for a moment silently, the alcohol in his system as well as his general Sam-ness (that defines his whole being and turns him into the annoying piece of shit Dean loves and hates) obviously struggling with each other for the upper hand.

“So …” he eventually settles on, in all its elegance and glory, “... and now, um, you feel weird about it?”

Dean rolls his eyes.  _ Seriously _ ?

“Of course I feel weird about it!” he grunts.

Sam begins to squirm on his seat, his eyes flickering back and forth, apparently having trouble on focusing on something. “Well, you shouldn’t,” he states, blinking so rapidly Dean wonders if he’s got a stroke right now. “Cas is an amazing guy and locking your lips with his for a few seconds really shouldn’t freak you out or anything. It was for a case, after all. I’d totally do it, too.”

And  _ that’s _ a picture Dean seriously doesn’t want in his head. He grimaces fiercely at his brother, making his displeasure fairly visible.

Unfortunately Sam completely misunderstands the situation. “Hey, man, don’t be a dick about this!” he complains. “Kissing a dude isn’t weird or anything and Cas is my friend and quite attractive, if I’m being honest --”

“ _ Oh my God, stop _ !” Dean practically yells into his face, honestly not in the mood to hear anything else out of brother’s mouth. “This is not about me being uncomfortable with kissing a guy or whatever bullshit your brain is making up. Like seriously.” He huffs a breath. “I kissed Cas. I kissed him and it was hot and intense and now I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s basically  _ the only thing _ I’m able to think about these days.”

There, he said it.

Dean feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulder.

And also he senses some nausea coming his way. All that booze obviously wasn’t that good of an idea, it seems. He isn’t freaking twenty anymore.

“So you kissed Cas … and you liked it?” Sam summarizes tentatively.

Dean snorts at the phrasing. “You could say it like that.”

After that Sam appears floored for a while. He opens and closes his mouth several times, gaping at Dean for what feels like ages before nipping at his beer again, and then he goes right back to acting like a fish on dry land.

It’s actually pathetic to watch.

“What about Cas?” Sam asks as he finally finds a coherent thought in his brain. “What did he say to all of this?”

Dean presses his lips into a thin line. “Nothing. Acted like nothing ever happened.”

Sam wrinkles his enormous forehead. “Did you try talking to him about it?”

Dean closes his eyes in exasperation as he suddenly recalls why he didn’t tell Sam about this before. Because that stupid bastard wants to be  _ reasonable  _ and  _ talk about feelings _ and all that shit.

Exhausting.

“What’s the point?” Dean grumbles. “We kissed -- like super intense and everything -- and then he dropped me like a hot potato as soon as the cops were gone. He clearly viewed this as a business transaction and moved on from it.”

At least he never mentioned it again. His texts in the last few weeks were as  _ Cas  _ as seraphically possible.

Sam, however, doesn’t appear satisfied by that explanation. “ _ Of course _ he thought it was a business transaction. I mean, you probably said something like that and didn’t jump him like a horny teenager out of the blue, am I right?”

Dean can’t help a flush at that picture and hastily ducks his head. “Well, I did tell him it was a distraction for the cops --”

“So how should he know any different?” Sam scoffs. “Cas is very aware that trying to talk with you about your feelings would be a dead end, so why bother to push you? Right now he’s probably wallowing around somewhere, waiting for your call, wondering if all of -- well, uh, the  _ intensity  _ was only in his head or not.”

Dean chews his bottom lip as he mulls these words over. Granted, after all these years Cas is still sometimes bad at human emotions and understanding social cues, but he surely must’ve noticed that the kiss was something more than Dean previously led on.

Or not?

“Just  _ talk  _ to him!” Sam urges, his voice fairly slurred now. “Easy as that.”

It sounds easy, but the mere idea makes Dean’s heart nearly leap out of his chest.

But it seems impossible to ignore this thing until it goes away eventually by itself. Even now he feels Cas’ touch on his skin and it’s overwhelming and intoxicating while it sears itself into Dean’s bones, into his entire being, absolutely keen on staying there until the end of all times.

Yeah, it seems he has to tackle this thing.

No matter how terrifying.

\-----

Well, first he has to tackle the hangover the following morning.

Right next to Sam who hugs the toilet bowl for the better part of the day and curses the entire world.

\-----

An opportunity for  _ the talk _ arises way earlier than Dean anticipated, however.

They barely just arrived back at the bunker and settled down before Cas conveniently shows up on their doorstep and instantly steals Dean’s coffee.

Dean is way too speechless to react properly and instead can’t help eyeing Sam suspiciously, wondering whether his little brother asked the angel to come over. Sam, though, still looks green around the nose and hurries to hide himself in the sanctuary of his own room almost immediately. He probably didn’t think much of anything in the last couple of days beside his stomach and the fact that the universe hates him.

So Cas paying them a visit is most likely purely coincidental.

Dean doesn’t know if he prefers that or not.

Nonetheless, despite his fluttering heart and the sensation in his belly he refuses to describe as “butterflies” he’s still thrilled to see his friend with them again.

“You know, I could make you your own cup of coffee,” Dean offers, pointing at the mug in Cas’ hands that used to belong to Dean just ten seconds ago. “You don’t have to revert to petty theft.”

Cas merely smiles at him and Dean knows in that very moment he’s an absolutely lost cause.

_ Damn. _

\-----

In perfect Winchester tradition Dean avoids the topic entirely and tries everything to make Cas feel welcome in the bunker instead. 

“You know you can stay, right?” Dean asks. “Like  _ all the time. _ It’s your home, too.”

In that moment Dean isn’t sure if he ever said it out loud and isn’t that a crying tragedy? It seems there are a lot of things he has to remedy.

Cas’ answering smile is soft and truly genuine. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean suppresses the urge to take the angel’s hand and hold on forever as he grins brightly at Cas. “We love to have you here.”

Cas takes another sip of his coffee, but there is something in his look that makes Dean’s skin tingle and something akin to hope blossom inside of him.

Maybe …

Yeah,  _ maybe. _

\-----

“Cas, we have to talk about something.”

Cas finished his coffee twenty minutes ago and they’ve been catching up ever since. Sometimes Dean forgets how easy it is to talk with the guy, how uncomplicated. He’s pretty sure he could talk about the weirdest stuff with him for hours and wouldn’t notice the time passing.

“About … about the other night …” Dean adds, feeling self-conscious and awkward, but knowing right away he just  _ has  _ to say something.

Anything.

He can’t just let this stay between them, an unspoken thing, and transform into a dark cloud over time. Dean doesn’t even care how this talk might turn out, he just needs to address it.

“The night we kissed?” Cas obviously doesn’t take a fucking millisecond to figure his friend out.

Dean can’t help a wince at that. “I’m that transparent?”

Castiel merely shrugs. “I have been waiting for you to bring it up.”

Waiting.

Patiently. Not willing to push Dean into anything he’s not comfortable with.

Dean isn’t certain he deserves a friend like Cas.

“I’m just … I wanted to explain …” he mutters as he instantly feels a blush coming along. “I need you to know …”

“I know what happened, Dean,” Cas cuts in, a soft smile playing on his lips. “As you remember, I’m fairly pop culture savvy now. People pretending to be intimate to get people off their trail is a popular trope.”

Right.

A trope.

Whatever that means.

“Um, yeah …” Dean agrees because what else could he do? “It’s just that … well …”

Damn, why didn’t he write this down before? He never felt so unsmooth in all his life.

What the hell is Cas doing to him?

“I just …”

Cas studies him for a minute, his gaze even more intense than ever before (and Dean never thought that would be possible), before he scoots his chair closer to Dean until their legs touch each other. Dean finds himself flushing at the contact and feels his brain functions shutting down.

“Just answer me one question, Dean,” the angel says.

Dean blinks and nods. “Yeah, sure.”

Cas leans in, his body heat invading Dean’s personal space and making the hunter a bit dizzy. He’s surely reverting back to a teenage girl, it seems.

“Was this whole ruse just a diversion?” Cas wonders, tilting his head to one side as his gaze roams over all of Dean. “Or was it something more?”

Dean takes a deep breath as he contemplates how to reply to this.

How could he properly phrase how he totally intended it to just be a distraction for the cops, but as soon as Cas’ lips touched his it was like a switch had been flipped? Pent-up feelings, shoved down for so long Dean nearly thought them dead, suddenly breaking through the surface, more powerful than ever before. Overtaking Dean completely.

_ How _ could he possibly express such a thing?

“Because I know how all these movies end,” Cas adds in soft amusement. “After all, most of the time it’s used as a  _ romantic  _ trope.”

Dean feels his mouth go dry.

“Uh …”

Cas knew. He knew this whole damned time.

And he waited for Dean to come to terms with it. No pressure, no obligations. Just easy and gentle patience.

Fuck, Dean  _ seriously  _ doesn’t deserve him.

“Real life isn’t like a movie,” he needs to emphasize nevertheless. However, the corners of his mouth begin to tug upwards as a huge and mighty wave of unadulterated hope washes right over him and nearly knocks him off his chair.

“Of course I’m aware of that, Dean.” Cas raises a pointed eyebrow. “However, the way you kissed me strongly suggests a romantic movie ending, don’t you agree?”

Dean’s cheek heat up almost painfully as he snorts as loudly as possible. “The way _ I  _ kissed you?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “What about the way _ you _ kissed me?”

He gripped Dean, held him close, took him apart and built him back together.

This is not something you just do to shake off a bunch of cops.

“That was  _ one hell _ of a kiss, Cas,” Dean points out with a breathy chuckle. “Impossible to forget, even if I had wanted to.”

Cas seems fairly pleased by that statement. “I guess I got a bit carried away.”

_ A bit _ ?

Dean is still floored by it, even weeks later.

“You’re pretty full of yourself, asshat.”

Cas smiles. “At least I’m  _ your  _ asshat.”

It’s true.

True and amazing and the best thing that ever happened to Dean.

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

So when their lips finally find each other again -- this time without anyone breathing down their necks, no danger and no lame excuses --, soft and tender and with the promise of so much more for the future, Dean just knows that everything will be alright.

More than.


End file.
